The story is everywhere. You see the green fur on pajamas at Target in October. You hear Thurl Ravenscroft’s booming bass voice singing about "seasick crocodiles" on every holiday radio station. Basically, it’s impossible to escape. But when Theodor Geisel—the man we all know as Dr. Seuss—sat down to write How the Grinch Stole Christmas! in 1957, he wasn't trying to build a multi-billion dollar merchandising empire.
He was actually just cranky.
Geisel was 53 years old. It was the day after Christmas. He was looking in the bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth, and he noticed a very "Grinch-ish" countenance looking back at him. He realized he had lost the spirit of the holiday. So, he did what any genius illustrator would do: he wrote a book to see if he could rediscover it for himself. He finished the manuscript in just a few weeks, though he famously struggled with the ending because he didn't want it to feel too "preachy" or religious.
The Grinch Wasn't Always Green
Here is the thing that trips people up: in the original 1957 book, the Grinch isn't green.
He’s black and white.
The only color in the original Dr. Seuss illustrations is red—the red of the Grinch’s fake Santa suit and some accents on the Whos' decorations. The iconic "Grinch Green" we all associate with the character didn't exist until the 1966 animated special directed by Chuck Jones. Legend has it that Jones chose that specific, sickly shade of green because it reminded him of the color of several ugly rental cars he had driven around that time.
It’s weird to think about now, right?
Without that animated special, the Grinch might just be another monochromatic grumpy old man in a library book. Instead, he’s a color palette. He’s a brand. But the core of the story—the idea that "maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more"—remains the reason why the book hasn't been relegated to the bargain bin of history.
Why the Anatomy of a Who Matters
Geisel was obsessed with the Whos. Not just in this book, but in Horton Hears a Who! which came out a few years earlier. He loved the idea of a society that was fundamentally "good" without being annoying.
The Whos in How the Grinch Stole Christmas! are a specific kind of resilient. Think about it. They wake up, and every single tangible scrap of their holiday is gone. The "Roast Beast" is gone. The "Who-pudding" is gone. Even the "hooks and the wire" for the stockings are gone.
If that happened to most of us? We’d be calling the police or filing insurance claims.
But the Whos just stand there and sing. That’s the pivot point. That is the exact moment the Grinch’s brain has to re-wire itself. Dr. Seuss uses this moment to critique consumerism, which, honestly, was a pretty bold move for a children's book in the late 50s. The post-war boom was in full swing. Everyone wanted a new fridge and a shiny car. Seuss was over there in La Jolla, California, drawing a creature who realizes that stuff doesn't actually equal joy.
The Trouble With the Ending
As I mentioned earlier, Geisel hit a massive wall with the final few pages. He knew the Grinch had to return the stuff, but how do you show a heart changing without it feeling like a Sunday school lesson?
He spent more time on the final three pages than the rest of the book combined.
He didn't want the Grinch to become "good" just because he was caught. He wanted it to be a physical transformation. That’s where the "his heart grew three sizes that day" line comes from. It’s a biological solution to a moral problem. It’s classic Seuss—using hyperbole and whimsical anatomy to explain a complex human emotion.
The Evolution of the Grinch in Pop Culture
We’ve seen three major versions of this story, and they each tell us something about the era they were made in.
First, you have the 1966 animated special. This is the gold standard. It’s only 26 minutes long, but it’s perfect. It gave us the music (written by Albert Hague) and the narration by Boris Karloff. Karloff, the guy who played Frankenstein, was the perfect choice because he could sound menacing and grandfatherly at the exact same time.
Then came the 2000 live-action version with Jim Carrey.
People have mixed feelings about this one, but you can’t deny Carrey’s commitment. He had to undergo "CIA anti-torture training" just to deal with the prosthetic makeup. That version added a lot of backstory—the Grinch’s childhood trauma, his crush on Martha May Whovier—which Seuss never wrote. It turned the Grinch into an outcast rather than just a hater.
Finally, the 2018 Illumination film gave us a "softer" Grinch voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch. He’s less a monster and more a guy with social anxiety who just wants some peace and quiet.
The "Seuss" Style: Why the Verse Works
There is a technical reason why How the Grinch Stole Christmas! is so fun to read aloud. Geisel wrote primarily in anapestic tetrameter.
Don't let the fancy term scare you. It basically means the rhythm goes: da-da-DUM, da-da-DUM, da-da-DUM, da-da-DUM.
You're a MEAN one, Mr. GRINCH.
It’s the same rhythm used in many limericks and "The Night Before Christmas." It’s propulsive. It’s easy for a kid’s brain to latch onto. When you read the book, the meter rarely breaks. This creates a sense of momentum that makes the Grinch’s mountain-climbing heist feel like a high-stakes thriller, even though it’s about a guy stealing "drums, checkers, tricycles, popcorn, and plums."
Common Misconceptions About the Grinch
- The Grinch is a different species: Actually, in the Seuss universe, the Grinch is often considered a variation of a Who, just one that lives in isolation.
- Max is a purebred: Max is just a "mutt." In the 1966 special, he's actually the most relatable character because he’s just a dog trying to please his grumpy owner.
- The Grinch hates Christmas: Not exactly. The book says his heart was "two sizes too small," but it also suggests his shoes were too tight. He hates the noise. The "noise, noise, noise, noise!"
The Legacy of Mount Crumpit
Today, the Grinch is more than a character; he's a psychological shorthand. We call people "Grinches" when they’re being spoilsports. But we forget that the Grinch ends the story at the head of the table. He’s the one carving the Roast Beast.
The story isn't about excluding the grouch; it's about the group being so vibrant and welcoming that the grouch has no choice but to melt.
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There is a subtle power in that.
How to Experience the Story Properly This Year
If you want to get the most out of How the Grinch Stole Christmas! this season, stop looking at the memes for a second and go back to the source.
- Read the book first. Notice the line work. Geisel was a master of "calculated chaos." Look at the way the Grinch’s sleigh overhands the cliff. The physics are impossible, but it feels dangerous.
- Watch the 1966 special without your phone. Seriously. Look at the background art by Maurice Noble. The colors are incredibly sophisticated for a 1960s cartoon.
- Listen to the lyrics of the song. The insults are top-tier. "You're a three-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce." That’s poetry.
The Grinch teaches us that change is possible, but it usually requires a shock to the system. For the Grinch, it was a song. For Theodor Geisel, it was a look in the mirror. For the rest of us, it’s a reminder that the "stuff" is just stuff.
Go find a copy of the original 1957 hardcover if you can. It’s a different experience when you see the red ink against the black-and-white sketches. It feels more like a piece of art and less like a holiday greeting card.
The story holds up because it’s honest about the fact that the holidays can be annoying, loud, and overwhelming. But it also argues that there is something underneath all that noise that is worth protecting. Whether you're a Who or a Grinch, that's a pretty solid takeaway.